Michael dug deep, summoning every ounce of strength he could muster to push forward. Step by agonizing step, his muscles groaned in protest, each one threatening to give up on him.

Yet, as he raised his head, he saw Braydon glaring fiercely at him—suffering just as much.

I'd rather die than show weakness here… he shouted in his heart.

Despite his determination, he could feel his resolve weakening. Even with that fire inside him, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. Another glance at Braydon revealed the surprising sight of the other youth frozen in place, his jaw hanging open as he stared in Michael's direction.

Huh? What's going on?

"Oh, this isn't too bad once you get the hang of it," came a familiar voice nearby.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Michael turned his head to see Rudy strolling casually beside him, a refreshed look on his face.

"Y-you…" Michael stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

It didn't make sense—how was Rudy managing to move so easily under such pressure?

Is he using mana to counter the effects of the gravity magic? Michael thought, but quickly discarded the idea. Rudy hadn't even seemed to grasp the basics of mana theory in their class—there was no way he could be doing something like that.

"Can I go on ahead?" Rudy asked innocently, as if worried he might be rude for doing so.

"Sure…" Michael responded, still dumbfounded.

"Thanks!" Rudy grinned and strolled forward, his steps clearly heavy but controlled. Within moments, he was already ten feet ahead, as though he were casually walking around the field like it was any other day.

A burst of laughter rang out from the other side of the field, pulling Michael's attention.

"Looks like not all of you are delicate flowers! Wonderful!" Professor Quinn exclaimed, her voice filled with satisfaction.

Michael could only stare in shock.

"How…?" he whispered, his legs shaking as the weight of the gravity spell continued to wear him down.

He had thought his years of hard work at Winterborne manor had prepared him for this—yet compared to Rudy, it was clear he was falling short.

Maybe working on a farm had given Rudy the physical strength he needed. Michael's own body was nowhere near as tough.

He managed another twenty feet, but it was clear he was running on empty. It wasn't until he looked over and saw Braydon already lying flat on his back that Michael's body gave out completely.

Collapsing to the ground, he wasted no time lying on his back, eyes fixed on the cloudless blue sky above. Sweat poured down his face, and the breeze brought a cool, refreshing sensation as he lay there, catching his breath.

Though he hadn't been the fastest or the strongest in the class, Michael couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride. Outlasting Braydon—no matter how small the victory—felt like a triumph. He refused to lose to that pompous idiot.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over him, blocking the morning sun. Rudy's face appeared, concern evident on his features.

"Are you alright, man?"

Michael wanted to give a thumbs-up in response, but the spell made even that simple action impossible.

"I'm fine… Just enjoying the morning in the sun," he replied with a resigned smile.

As he spoke, Professor Quinn's laughter rang out once again from nearby. "I guess you've all learned your lesson now," she said, coming to a stop in the middle of the field.

She waved her hand casually, dispelling the gravity spell.

In that instant, Michael felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest, allowing him to breathe freely once again. The relief rippled through the entire class of first-years, who let out a chorus of grunts and groans across the field. Yet, no one was eager to rise to their feet.

"On your feet!" Professor Quinn barked, her tone laced with authority, striking fear into the hearts of the teens.

Everyone scrambled to obey, afraid of what punishment might await them for not following her orders. Even Melody slowly peeled herself from the ground, but not before wiping the dirt from her face.

Her complexion was pale, a mix of fear and cold rage flashing in her eyes.

Michael happened to glance over, noticing some dirt still clinging to her chin. In that brief moment, he could see the fury beneath her composed exterior—but she could blame no one but herself for what had happened today.

Maybe this will make her think twice before pulling something like this again? Michael hoped, his gaze lingering for a moment. But judging by the anger on her face, he wasn't so sure.

"So, how does my gravity spell feel? Did you all have fun?" Professor Quinn asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Most of the students lowered their heads, unwilling to speak up.

"No? Well, good." She added, hands returning to her hips. "From now on, you are all a single unit. If one of you steps out of line, the whole unit will be punished—regardless of who's at fault."

"Today was just your first taste of the long and creative list of ways I can inflict punishment. You can thank Miss Winterborne for her contributions to this matter." Her voice was unrelenting.

Melody's face flushed crimson as she lowered her head, her small hands clenched into fists.

The humiliation of being singled out in front of the entire class was something Melody was clearly unaccustomed to. The scene reminded Michael of his first night at Winterborne Manor.

He remembered how her father had reprimanded her at the dinner table for speaking out of turn—that was the only other time he'd seen her so visibly rattled.

"So it's clear," Professor Quinn continued, her gaze sharp, "there are to be no spells used in my class unless I give express permission. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor…" the class responded in unison.

"Wonderful." She clapped her hands together, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. "Even though the punishment was brief, I was able to see a few promising pupils," she said, her eyes scanning Michael, Braydon, and finally landing on Rudy.

Though Professor Quinn was undoubtedly a beauty, her smile sent a shiver down Michael's spine, causing a knot of unease to settle in his stomach.

Maybe this is the one class I don't want to stand out in… he thought, swallowing hard.

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